


of blessings in disguise

by Hymn



Category: Cardcaptor Sakura
Genre: Captivity, Clit Stimulation, F/M, Fingering, Forced Captivity, Future Fic, Hand Job, Make Outs, finger combing, hair combing, if i missed anything pls let me know, not canon compliant lol, trapped together, yue is a tricky muse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-10
Updated: 2007-07-10
Packaged: 2019-05-07 14:29:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14673048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn/pseuds/Hymn
Summary: At least Yue will never be bored.





	of blessings in disguise

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Нет худа без добра](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962111) by [Lavender_Prime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_Prime/pseuds/Lavender_Prime)



> springkink, _Card Captor Sakura, Sakura/Yue: Trapped together - "This is the longest Yue has spent in his true form in 200 years."_

Sakura’s fingers were gentle and soothing through his hair. Yue sat patiently on the floor, and wondered absently what had taken him so long to give in to his mistress. It was the only time besides sleeping when Sakura was silent; the young woman had too much nervous energy to simply sit in peace, like Yue continuously attempted to. Her chatter and questions, though, drew him out of what would have been a meditative wait, kept him stubbornly rooted in the real world, because as much as he would have loved to snap at her, he wouldn’t, if just so he wouldn’t have to face the expression it was sure to cause in her eyes.

Days and nights were obsolete in the darkness of their tomb, and the wood-planked walls and wood-planked floor were only ever lit by Yue’s own magic or his mistress’s cards. He supposed he could have kept count of time by the arrival of their meals, in whatever secret fashion their captors managed it, but he didn’t bother. Time wasn’t meaningless to an immortal being, but it certainly didn’t hold as much weight.

They were there long enough, though, that Yue got so used to his mistress’s still startlingly open friendliness, that he didn’t even twitch when she cuddled closer, tight against his side, for warmth or comfort or simply for a soft spot to lay her head as she slept. Enough that when Sakura seemingly randomly asked, “What was Clow like?” Yue didn’t close down, shut down at the memories, and instead merely answered after long, thoughtful moments, “He was like none other.”

At one point Sakura had her head down on Yue’s lap, preparing to sleep, and Yue wasn’t even surprised to notice that his hand had drifted over, to press tenderly against her arm. That was one moment when he didn’t mind the Lady Tomoyo’s excessive use of fabric in designing their clothing; there was always plenty of sleeve or skirt to drape across the other, to keep out the perpetual chill of their small, run-down prison.

Yue frowned, looking out into the shadows, at the door across from them, protected by black magic that even they could not break through. They needed Kero, Yue had long admitted, though reluctantly. And there was no telling how long it would take his fellow guardian to come half way round the world, and ferret out their magical signatures. He glanced back down at his mistress, and said; “You knew it was probably a trap.”

Sakura blinked her green eyes sleepily, her smooth face soft in relaxation. “Yes,” she sighed, and closed her eyes entirely, leaning into Yue. “Yes, I thought it might be. I’m sorry I dragged you into it, Yue.”

“Hn.” Yue remembered her protesting, when he had crossed his arms and told her that he was coming, as well. She’d been fidgety and frustrated and exasperated in the black and gold of her heavy robes, design courtesy of her best friend. Yue had shrugged in his matching white and silver, and told her he’d follow her anyway. “You have an interesting view on events,” he told her dryly, her skin warm and soft beneath his fingers. He looked back up, at the shadows again, asking: “If you knew, why did you go?”

Sakura was almost completely asleep, by then, her words mumbled half formed from petal pink lips. Yue heard her perfectly well, though. “Had to. They were hurting children. It was a chance I had to take.”

It still took him a while, though, to acquiesce to her demands. “Yue,” she said, blowing her cheeks out in frustration, hands on her hips. Yue raised an eyebrow, secretly amused. “At least let me make it up to you! Your hair must be all tangled, and it has to be itchy, it’s so long! Come on, please, Yue?”

“You haven’t a comb.”

She beamed, “I’ll use my fingers, then!” Yue’s mistress demonstrated this by waggling said appendages at him, and Yue snorted, shaking his head. 

“Thank you, Mistress,” he said, “but I’ll be just fine.”

That stance didn’t last long, though, because Sakura was like a dog with a bone, sometimes, and finally Yue had snapped, and hissed an expletive; rose suddenly to his knees with a fierce, frigid glare, and turned, to shake his hair out at her insistent demands. “Well?” he asked, folding his arms and glaring at the wall, preparing himself to silently endure the treatment.

Her quiet voice said, “Thank you,” like he had given her a great gift, and he was suddenly embarrassed at the graceless way in which he had surrendered. But then her fingers were carding patiently through his hair, and at the first soft pressure and stroke and scratch of nails to his scalp, Yue had melted. 

After that it was routine, and every once in a while Sakura would tilt her head and smile, a curious expression in her bright eyes, reach up and run her fingers through his hair. The first time she ruffled them through Yue’s bangs had taken him by surprise, and he remembered the giggle his sourly confused expression had procured. 

“What?” he asked, and if they had been anywhere else, Yue would have turned and walked away, confused and uncertain and unwilling to put himself on the line to figure things out. Sakura must have seen it in his eyes, because her face softened, and her fingers rubbed slowly, tenderly behind one of his ears. His lids went to half-mast, and he couldn’t help but tilt into it.

“You could change back,” she told him. “You must be getting tired. I think this is the longest I’ve ever seen you in your true form, ever.”

“Hm,” Yue said, something tight shifting through his chest at her words. It was true; he hadn’t stayed in his true form this long in a couple of centuries, at least, but Sakura was strong now, strong enough to maintain him, and he would rather be here, like this, with his mistress, than leave her alone with Yuki while captive.

Still, he asked with furrowed brow, “Do you want me to?”

She smiled, bright and earnest and sweet. “I wouldn’t mind if you stayed, Yue. But I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Tch. I’m fine.”

The smile she’d gifted him at that had made a warm glow flush through Yue that he didn’t quite understand, but enjoyed enough not to care to examine. For all that they were prisoners, Yue was beginning to enjoy his time with his mistress, even if she did occasionally ask the most ridiculous questions (“Were you and Kero ever best friends?” “ _No_.”). 

Sakura’s fingers were gentle and soothing in his hair, and the ground wasn’t as hard as it could have been when there was something amazing going on between his mistress’s fingers and his scalp. Yue sighed, and gave a tiny moan as she began to massage lightly down, until she reached the base of his skull. There, she hesitated a moment, and Yue waited patiently for her to sweep back up to the crown of his head; instead, she continued, kneading the muscles of his neck so that Yue gave another impromptu moan and tilted forward, arching his neck back for her to have better reach. His hair fell on either side of his face, forgotten.

When she was done, Yue was completely worthless. He realized this distantly, an eyebrow arching ruefully as he realized exactly how much good he would do in a fight if their captors came at them, now. “Mistress,” he began, but she cut him off with a soft, lingering kiss to the back of his neck.

Her lips were soft, and dry, and Yue went very, very still.

“Yue,” she said. “It…It’s not because we’re trapped in here. And not because I’m lonely, okay?”

Yue didn’t say anything, and Sakura moved her fingers, hesitantly, gently, sweeping them over Yue’s shoulders, brushing them against Yue’s collarbones. He had unbuttoned his robes already, when Sakura had been in the midst of her sudden massage, and now that fact sent heat racing through him, his heart pounding. 

She pressed another kiss to his neck, harder, wetter, and said, “ _Yue_.”

Yue’s breath was rasping in his throat, and he couldn’t have cared less if anybody walked in on them. Nobody mattered next to his mistress, not even her enemies. Not when she was pressed warm and soft and sweetly demanding against his back. “If this is what my Mistress wants,” he said slowly, “then I would be a fool to object.”

He wasn’t going to make it easy for her, though. When she slid around on her knees in front of him, he gave her a steady, unimpressed stare, neither approving nor disapproving. She narrowed her eyes at him, and took up his challenge with the same courage that she always had, since the very beginning.

Her mouth tasted very sweet against his, and when her tongue traced his lips demandingly, he slid his mouth open under hers, and moaned to feel the heat and silken slide of her tongue against his. She’s pressed up, closer, onto him now, and heat was crashing through him. He hadn’t even realized how much he wanted this, how much he silently yearned for it. Sakura was his mistress and she had never once made him regret choosing her.

Lady Tomoyo’s robes were voluminous, and great for keeping warm and concealed, but hell to get off. Sakura muttered several things that she no doubt learned from her brother under her breath, and Yue hissed as she finally managed to wrestle her hand inside his robes, inside his pants with a crow of triumph. Then her eyes were shocked wide and surprised and her breath was coming on soft pants as she curiously curled her fingers around Yue’s hard cock, and gave a few tentative strokes.

Yue swallowed, and bowed his head against her shoulder, gathering her closer. “Mistress,” he hissed, bucking up into her grip as she slowly got the hang of it, as she slowly began to find a rhythm and an appropriate grip. “Let me-”

Together they manage to get Yue beneath her skirts, and Yue’s hands skated teasingly along her thighs until they reached their final destination. Her panties were silky, and lacy, and wet for him already. With a heady amount of eagerness, and want and lust and tender need, Yue slipped his fingers under the elastic of her panties, and stroked his fingertips over her slick folds. She shuddered over him, trembling, her hand moving faster on his length, now, learning tricks to make Yue gasp and groan and whimper high up in his throat. 

Sakura parted sweetly around his fingers on a long, rasping moan, and Yue fucked her gently as she jerked him off, his thumb questing to try and find that tiny nub of nerves that would send his mistress keening. He found it, just as she managed to wriggle her other hand inside his pants and stroke at his balls, the palm of her hand rubbing sensual circles over his head. Crying out, she pressed against him so that even through their robes Yue could feel her nipples hard and sensitive. 

She writhed over him, against him, and it was intoxicating, almost as intoxicating as the pull of her hand, just a little shaky; pleasure built and built up inside of them until it was so strong it almost hurt, and they had no choice but to surrender, to fall over the edge into a blazing white, or let it break them.

It took them several long moments to catch their breath, and they were both holding onto each other like they would die otherwise. Then Yue slid his fingers out of her with a slow, slick sound, and she pulled her hand away from him, squelching slightly as she curled her fingers. She was blushing, but also looking very pleased. 

Yue was blushing too, and he tried to hide it by looking down, uncertain when he wasn’t, before. The state of their robes, however, drew his attention in a moment, and Yue glared down at them, frowning at the mess. “Well,” he said. 

“Don’t worry,” Sakura said, winking, “I’m sure I have a card somewhere that’ll clean us up.”

And just like that any and all tension Yue might have been feeling evaporated. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, because his mistress was Sakura, and Sakura wouldn’t just use him, wouldn’t simply drop him after she’d taken her pleasure. Sakura wouldn’t have done it if she hadn’t at least felt _something_. Yue breathed a shaky sigh of relief, and was pleased when he managed to dryly tease, “Yes. I’m sure Clow included one for exactly this reason. Of course.”

Sakura snorted in amusement, and quickly began to shuffle through her cards.


End file.
